


Sleep!

by RoctodtheWho



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Sleep, Slightly OOC Sherlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-10 22:56:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2043393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoctodtheWho/pseuds/RoctodtheWho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sherlock is the drama queen when he has to share a bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "Do you suggest we share the shower as well ?"

**Author's Note:**

> I've always sort of seen everywhere that John would be the one not ok with sharing beds. This ensued.  
> (This hasn't been checked by any true English speakers...so I'm sorry if this is full of mistakes yay)  
> Oh and, any comment helping me to make this better will be really welcome so yeah, enjoy!

"Why is there only one bed in here ?"

"Sherlock...we've been staying at this hotel, in the exact same room for five days straight now. It would be time you noticed." sighed John, taking off his coat.

 

Sherlock turned around and raised an eyebrow:

 

"Yes, well, I didn't care then, I wasn't interested."

"Oh, and since when are you willingly thrilled by the idea of getting some sleep?"

"S-since you said Mycroft would come and sing me to sleep if I didn't get some rest when cases are over..."

 

John sniggered and shook his head. Sherlock protested:

 

"Wait! Who's going to take the sofa ?"

"I don't care, I'm off to take a shower!"

"Well then, I suggest I don't sleep on the sofa, I'm far too tall, it wouldn't help me to sleep properly. You take it, you're the one who insisted on me getting some rest."

 

John turned around from his way to the bathroom and eyed the poorly named sofa, which was as close to an armchair as a sofa could be.

 

"Sherlock, have you seen this thing ? Even I wouldn't fit in there, why don't we just share the bed?"

 

Sherlock's left eyebrow joined his pal up on his forehead and he stared at John. Which only succeeded in making him laugh.

 

"Stop this you look like a mad owl."

"I don't share beds!"

"Well, now you do. Can I go and take this shower now?"

"Oh, I don't know! Do you suggest we share the shower as well?"

"Now, you're being ridiculous..."

 

Sherlock's eyebrows, definitely doing some work this evening, furrowed and with a pout on his mouth and a huff, he went to the bed and managed to sprawl on the entire thing, which was quite impressive given the size of the bed.

But John surprinsingly remained unimpressed and with a roll of his eyes, he finally went into the bathroom.

 

When John was finished, Sherlock was sitting crossed leg onto the bed, but when he opened his mouth to ask if the detective had abandoned his territory, Sherlock jumped and sprawled again on the giant bed.

John stared. He then packed his clothes of the day in his bag and threw Sherlock's pyjamas on their owner's head. Sherlock let out an offended whine but didn't move. John walked to the bed and kneeled next to it, trying to put some sense back in his flatmate's head.

 

"Sherlock, I'm really starting to wonder about the whole genius thing right now. You know you can't cover the whole damn thing, and that I can still fit into the space right between your leg and your arm..."

"No! I know how you sleep, you always face the inside of the mastress, no matter on which side you're sleeping."

"Your point being ?"

"You would breathe directly into my armpit."

"How the hell do you know about my sleeping habits?"

 

Sherlock didn't answer. No. Sherlock raised his head from the pillow as if he'd  had the best idea ever, lied flat, his arms and legs extended and started rolling from one side of the bed to the other.

John, slightly bothered by the vision in front of him decided to bump his head on the mastress in despair, head which Sherlock hit with his arm during his rolling session, which finally put him to a stop.

 

"Sherlock, are you on something ?"

"I. Don't. Share. Beds."

 

John sighed.

 

"Sherlock, please, it's late and I'm tired, that bed is big enough for us not to touch each other and there are spare blankets so we don't even have to share these. The only thing we've got to share is a comfortable flat sleeping area."

 

Sherlock huffed, then grumbled:

 

"There's no way I'm taking a shower."

"Fine" sighed John "It's not like you had the ability to stink anyway..."

 

The world's only consulting detective rolled on his back as far as he could from John and covered his face with his pyjama T-shirt.

John minded his own business, plugged his phone charger and took the extra blankets from the closet to bring them back to the bed. His butt hadn't even touched the mastress that Sherlock threw his T-shirt over the room and declared  that maybe he'd go and take a shower.

Fifteen minutes later, Sherlock got out of the bathroom. The lights were already out and John was seemingly asleep, on his side, in his blanket.

Sherlock walked through the room, tripped on his T-shirt and decided he'd prefer to sleep on the floor. So he went next to the bed, and flopped down on the floor.

 

"Sherlock..."

 

Oh bugger! Wasn't this one supposed to be asleep.

 

"What?"

"Stop being a sleep deprived idiot and get into this bloody bed."

 

A huff. Soon followed by the mastress dipping as Sherlock climbed on it. He rolled into the sheets until only his head and one of his toe were out and turned his back to John.

 

"I'm not an idiot."

"Goodnight Sherlock."

 

Sherlock snorted: " _Goodnight?! Ridiculous!_ " he said to himself.

 

"Sleep Sherlock!"

 

Apparently, John had heard too.

 


	2. Interlude of the Caterpillar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night goes on...

 

Eventually, they fall asleep. They made a good picture you know...I'd like to link you to an interactive video of this night, because honestly it was close to poetry. Saddly, I do not physically exist so I'll just have to try and describe it to you. Let's say you're on the ceiling, because it's prettier if you see them from above. Are you alright there ? Good, let's start:

 

The soothing sound of heavy rain against the window doesn't seem to bother them, the curtains are open, the light of the moon isn't too bright, but it shines perfectly on the scene setting before our eyes.

 

The night just begins for them. John is on the left side of the bed, half under the covers. He is, as a matter of fact, not facing the inside of the bed. He is lying flat on his stomach and hugs his pillow. The uncovered part of his body seems relaxed, he breathes softly, and if you concentrate enough, you can hear it over the rain.

Sherlock, is on the right side of the bed, and he is sound asleep. He is still tucked in in a caterpillar way, on his back, but one of his arms escaped and hangs loosely on top of his head. He has a silly face, and is still frowning in his sleep.

 

There is a void between them. Lots and lots and lots of space. This is where the moon shines blue, and where the rain casts oddly shaped shadows. This is where everybody likes to stay on Sunday mornings. This, is where their world collides.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a lot shorter and I'm not sure if I like it,  
> This chapter is the reason it took me a lot of time to decide to put this fic on here,  
> This chapter might be rewritten one day.


End file.
